En Prise
by Wings of Wax
Summary: Part One: It's just a game of chess, after all... Part Two: A word game. Part Three: The final battle? Maybe not.
1. Part One: A Game of Chess

This was no game.

This was a battle.

A battle of wills and perfect strategy.

At what point the simple game had become that, she wasn't entirely sure.

The redhead sat across from her at the little table. Clouds dark with rain and distant rumbles of thunder did little to distract her. She watched his face as he studied the board that stretched out between them.

The battlefield was scattered with few men left alive to continue the bloodbath.

His hand reached out tentatively. Her eyes narrowed as he moved for the knight. In this move, he'd taken none of her men, but she could see his plan. If she moved her rook, his queen could take her last pawn. Her white queen could easily dispatch his black knight, but that left the white king open to various attacks.

What was his next move going to be?

The next move was always more important than the previous one. Her mind played over the possibilities, trying to plan three moves ahead from where her warriors now stood.

She studied her pawn. In four moves, she could slaughter the black king, but that was a strategy based on luck. She wasn't fond of relying on luck.

She was in a dangerous place. A quick study of the board showed just how vulnerable she was at the moment. The white king was close to checkmate- the black bishop a looming threat. That was her immediate concern- but how was she going to save her king? Several options presented themselves to her. Moving her king was the easiest solution, but it would do little good. She needed a counter attack rather than a retreat.

Without another thought, she lifted her rook. She dispatched his bishop with ease. Her opponent managed to cover his expression with ease.

The first few drops of rain began to splatter against the black and white board.

"I do believe we should reschedule this for another time," he suggested with a smug smile. His false bravado was a tactic he rarely used. With that simple line, this battle became much more interesting.

She flashed a grin back to him.

"No."

They weren't running from this battle. Come hell or high water, she was determined to see this through to the end.

His eyes went back to the trenches he'd made. Her eyes played the game before he moved. She could see every possibility in that moment. She had to be careful, but so did he. She held the black king in check with her white rook.

The movement of his queen ment he would sacrifice his hold of possible check over her. The knight could take her queen, but that left him open to checkmate from her precious rook. He could still take her last pawn, but that was a shallow move and one she knew he could not risk.

The possibilities seemed infinite. But she knew him. He was too careful. There were really only a handful of moves he would dare.

The black knight he pushed forward blocked her rook from claiming victory, but also left him with his queen open to attack. She was, once again, in check.

The white king could not move, now.

She was trapped.

A small smile formed across her lips, and she did not miss the brow of her opponent furrowing in confusion.

Her rook was in the most immediate danger. Once it was gone, that would leave her with one pawn, her queen, and her king. Her queen could always move to protect her king, but that could only lead to suicide. The rook could challenge the black knight- in a way- but she felt that such a bold move would be overlooked in favor of claiming the white queen.

That left only one option.

She shifted her last pawn. It was a simple yet deceptive move she hoped he would overlook.

The fearsome black queen claimed her rook. She smiled.

Before he could pull back his hand and study the board, she acted. The white queen shot forward.

"Checkmate."

Even with the heavy rain drops splattering against the board, she could hear the resounding _thunk_ the black king made as it fell.

Emerald eyes widened in shock, then settled into a small smile.

"That's the third time this week," he muttered. It was his way to congratulate her on her win.

She grinned.

Victory was sweet.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	2. Part Two: Word Games

Part Two

"Now, about that coffee..." she trailed off as she gathered the spent pieces into a bag. He mimicked her actions. The rain was picking up. They stood and gathered their bags. The little coffee shop she liked was across the street.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the door. She nodded and grabbed the board before jogging over to the warm, dry cafe. He opened the door and she stepped inside.

"I'll snag a table," she called. The place was filling up with students. That was normal at this time of day, but even more expected thanks to the rain. She found a cozy table in the back and sat down.

This place was special now.

It was here that she'd caught him in a game of chess with a fellow student. She'd bent over his shoulder and claimed victory for him in one easy move. As thanks, he'd bought her a cup of coffee.

Since then, they had begun to meet in the quad for chess at least once everyday between or after classes.

"French vanilla with extra sugar," he said, placing the large steaming mug before her. She grinned and sipped on it as he took his seat across from her. He sipped his tea.

She studied his expression. He looked thoughtful, like he was about to make a life-or-death move in their favorite game.

"Shuichi, I've been thinking..." she started, wanting to catch him off guard with a pointless question just to gauge his reaction time.

He held up one hand, cutting her off. She stared at him, watching his pleasant smile turn up the corners of his lips.

"Miriko," he began, "would you join me for dinner tonight?"

Uncomfortable blush creeped up her face. She had to force her eyes back down to their normal size. She fingered her mug, staring down into the creamy brown liquid.

She tried to say something, but the words couldn't come to her. She felt his eyes boring holes into the top of her head. For a lack of any other response, she managed a nod.

_That_ she had not expected. She glanced up at him.

His smile was polite, but she could tell she'd offended him.

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, she took another sip of her coffee. This conversation felt too much like their bloody battle earlier. What was his next move going to be?

"I'd like to pick your brain."

With that statement, she felt her stomach tighten. He was playing a game. The look on his face screamed at her- an intense expression of a strange fascination and desire she'd never seen before.

It felt like a challenge.

"What time?" She was not a coward. Squaring her shoulders, she adjusted her posture in the chair to face off against him. The look intensified with his smirk.

"How's eight o'clock?" The inflection of his words were right for a question, but she could not deny the base instinct that told her it was a statement instead.

What kind of game was this?

"Make it nine and you have a deal," she challenged.

A more pronounced smile took the place of his smirk. Something in the back of her mind associated his features with that of a sly fox. Her eyes were narrowed against him.

"Why now?" Her question was guarded. She had to tread carefully.

One of the perks of having intelligent friends included not having to give explanations to vague questions. Double entendres were a given in any conversation, and matching those had become a sort of sport. If anything, it was a more dangerous game that the one she'd just beaten him at.

He did not pretend to feign misunderstanding. He knew his earlier comment about picking her brain was not a sufficient answer. "You're a puzzle I want to solve."

That same blush from earlier stained her cheeks once more. It was a loaded statement, and she knew she could only guess at some of the implications behind it.

She took a longer drink from her mug, using the hot liquid as a distraction to plan out her next move. To her, this felt like a game that he was forcing her to play- one she didn't know the rules to. She struggled to find just the right words to respond with.

"I'm not a Rubix Cube," she managed after a long moment. His eyes lit up with pleasant surprise and a teasing smile graced his lips.

She was cautious. After three weeks of chess games, she knew when he was planning something based solely on the look in his eyes.

Exactly what he was planning, she couldn't say.

He sipped his tea, just watching her. It was almost uncomfortable to have all of his wits thrown against her outside of their typical battles. This was uncharted territory. One false step, and she'd be blown to bits.

"I would akin you to a Gordian Knot," he responded at last. Her head fell to the side as she studied him. What was he trying to play at?

"Where's your sword?" she tossed back. She decided to take his comment as a compliment.

His light chuckle twisted her stomach into a tighter knot. Her foot began to bounce without her consent.

"I have far more effective tools," he replied. The fox-like grin reappeared.

This conversation was heading in a direction she wasn't entirely sure she approved of. What she'd taken as a compliment before suddenly felt like another challenge.

She didn't know how to keep up with this fight. She sighed and finished off her coffee.

"I believe you've just overstepped the boundaries," she muttered. His eyes narrowed and the grin faded.

She felt some small sense of satisfaction at his not-so-obvious confusion. One of his tells involved his finger curling absent-mindedly around an errant lock of long bright red hair. Another was a slight tightening of his lips. She saw both of these.

"You are far more clever than I gave you credit for," he mumbled. She raised one eyebrow at him.

Part of her felt like she should take offense to the words. The other part was curious.

What did he mean by that? She fought to understand the rules of his game. She looked up from her coffee, attempting to study his expression to find some traces of meaning buried there.

He wasn't looking at her anymore. His features spoke of recognition and mild surprise, but his eyes were behind her. She fought against the urge to turn around to discover the person who'd stolen away his attention.

Instead, she focused on the way his lips twitched up into a pleasant smile. His eyes seemed brighter now, a lighter shade of green, but she couldn't recall the moment when they'd become darker.

"Hello, Yusuke." Perhaps it was the tone he used, or maybe the look on his face, but she understood that Shuichi had known this person for a long time. Tension burned in her shoulders. Even under his teasing, she hadn't felt as uncomfortable as she did now.

Without his attention keeping her there, she felt the urge to bolt from the coffee shop, like some force was trying to drive her away.

"Hey Shuichi," the other voice responded. She could hear the teasing tone he used when he said the name. The "why" was lost to her as she bent to grab her bag from the floor by her chair.

The burning need to escape drove her to stand.

"Miriko?" She glanced back to Shuichi. He still wasn't paying attention to her- he'd only noticed her absence. She felt the sting of jealousy, but pushed it away.

"Nine o'clock?" she muttered. He nodded.

Confused and frustrated, she left the cafe without a backward glance.

* * *

A/N:

Okay, so I guess I should explain a couple of things...

This is told intentionally from an OC's perspective. I wanted to capture the way that regular people interact with Kurama- those people who don't know what he is or what he can do.

Everything I did was intentional. Even the fun connotations in the dialogue was intentional. (I mean come on: _I have far more effective tools_- how is that **not** sexual? hehe)

This all started as a one shot. I was trying to go to sleep and I was on YYH overload and then that just sort of... hit my brain like a speeding freight train. Thus, En Prise was born. Almost immediately after I managed to get all of that down, this part came to mind and I couldn't resist the urge to write it. I debated about posting this part, since En Prise was supposed to be a stand-alone piece. After some wonderful encouragement, though, I decided to go for it.

Hate me for it if you want, but I love the word games I played here.

For those of you who have read part one: the summary has been changed to reflect the fact that this is now a _two_- shot.

Aaaannnnndddd that's a really long author's note, so I'll just skip ahead to the next thing:

**Thank you to: **

GoodEnoughTheOpenDoor

Just 2 Dream of You

-and-

dragonfly-rising

**You guys rock!**

Before I forget, though, I wanted to let you guys know what "_en prise_" means- "to be exposed to capture; in a position to be taken (captured)". There's another fun little play on words. ;p

Well, I think that's about all...

Nope, I forgot to mention the picture...

You can find the link for it on my profile.

It's _not mine._

I repeat: **I do not own the picture.**

I jacked it straight from Google.

_But the link to the original is in my profile._

THAT'S all.

I think...

Anyway...

I hope you all enjoyed this.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I am begging for reviews over here...

Let me know how I did!


	3. Part Three: Stalemate

_Italics_ represent memories and thoughts. :)

* * *

She found herself entering the greenhouse on campus. Technically, it was reserved for the botany majors and other students taking classes, but no one questioned her presence.

Among the various plants and small trees, she felt at peace. The scent of the fertilizers and flowers cleared her mind. She breathed it all in, desperate for the release it was sure to bring.

Most of the other students chose their quiet places of sanctuary based on silence and a decided lack of other people bustling about. She prefered the greenhouse, despite the other students around.

Her feet propelled her towards the very back on instinct. In this section, flowers grew everywhere. There were perhaps twenty different species, all lined up on tables and against the walls.

She gazed over them, letting the tempests of her mind fade away. With gentle care, she caressed the bud of a hibiscus.

This was her favorite place on campus. Every flower had a name, and she'd taken great care to memorize them all.

She found a little stool in the far corner and retrieved it. She pulled out a notepad for the sole purpose of pretending to study if someone happened to find her back there. Once she'd settled herself in, she took another deep breath.

She reflected back to the chaos of her thoughts and found one to pick her way through. This exercise usually left her with a clear mind by the end.

_Students filed into the classroom, each claiming a table and a partner. Those that knew each other closed ranks, leaving the strangers to fend for themselves._

_She watched the others, waiting for someone to claim the seat beside her._

_A mousy girl with plain brown hair and dull eyes hidden behind thick glasses joined her, but didn't seem interested in a friendly hello._

_She went back to her people-watching, only to find one of the most curious people she'd ever seen._

_The long red hair was an oddity in and of itself, but the delicate, almost feminine, features that accompanied it were remarkable._

_He was beautiful. It'd felt strange to use that particular word when referring to a man, but there was no other word for it._

_He sat as if he were the only one in the room, ignoring everyone and everything around him._

Each of the flowers before her had small note cards sticking out of the soil. She'd used these numerous times, looking for plant names and any other information that had been thoughtfully provided. New members had been added to the uniform lines.

She frowned. It had been too long since she'd been there. Seeking this haven was a last resort- one she used once the tangled mess of thoughts in her mind became too much to simply put to the side.

Among the new flowers were two she'd never seen before. She could not give them names. Despite being more or less concealed behind and between the bigger flowers, she'd noticed their unique qualities.

One looked similar to a pitcher plant, it's bowl-like shape and slick petals belying what she was sure was its true nature. Dark blues at the bottom faded to pinkish whites, but the lip of the plant was violent orange. The liquid in the center of the bowl held the half-digested remains of several maggots and a single fly.

The other flower might have been closely related to a venus fly trap, but the colors were wrong, and it seemed far too small. The tiny heads of each plant were no bigger around than a pencil eraser. Where most fly traps were green on the outside and red or pink on the inside, this one was pale purple on the outside and bright blue on the inside. Each short tooth started at the base as white, then darkened to black.

_He'd always seemed anti-social. He kept his distance, and most people tended to shy away from him or pretend he didn't exist._

_Trying to be friendly, she'd said hello. All she got in return was a nod._

_Miffed, but not discouraged, she'd said hello to him every time she saw him. He'd never once responded with anything more._

There were no cards on these two plants to identify what they were or who they belonged to.

As she leaned closer, she noticed a sickly-sweet aroma. Her nose wrinkled at the offensive stench, but she did not back down. Curiosity was getting the better of her.

_The coffee shop on campus was always full of students. Many had books out, or chatted over laptops._

_As a people-watcher, she'd noticed the signature bright red hair as she waited in line. By no means was she nosy, or overly social- she only wanted a hello._

_Coffee in hand, she'd approached the table, noticing another student sitting across from the one she wanted to tease. It was a game to her, saying hello to someone who never responded. The day he acknowledged her would be the day she'd win._

_"Check."_

_His voice was calm and cool, deeper than she'd expected it to be. Even over the din of the others crowding the place, his voice was clear and sharp._

_As she made her way closer to his table, she spotted the chess board. Unable to repress a grin, she studied the pieces._

_In a bold move, she'd stepped forward, reaching over his shoulder, and moving one of his pieces for him. She'd felt his entire body tense beside her. When she straightened back up, she flashed him a smile._

_"That's checkmate," she teased. When his eyes met hers, she tasted victory._

With one hand outstretched, she considered touching the slick petal of the pitcher plant.

"I must strongly advise against handling those." Flinching at the sudden sound of another human voice, she pulled her hand back and straightened.

Shuichi stood a few feet away, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Beauty can be deadly," she muttered, glancing back down at the flowers. A light chuckle brought her attention back to the redhead beside her. He'd moved closer, though she hadn't heard his footsteps.

It was unsettling.

_"Would you like to play?" he asked, gesturing towards the board. She nodded. The other student grumbled as he stood and gathered his things._

_She would play white._

_The pieces were placed in their starting positions, and he allowed her the first move._

_That first game had been the easiest she'd played against him. His look of surprise made her laugh._

_"You'll have to play better next time." Then she'd stood and left, heading out for her next class._

"Miriko?" His voice snapped her out of her memory. Those emerald eyes were staring through her, piercing her soul. She tried to smile, but her lips only twitched before settling back into her almost-frown. "Is something wrong?

"No," she answered softly. It was the truth, though she wished she were alone. She needed more time to sift through her thoughts. She turned to face Shuichi. "Why are you here?"

There was a moment of pause. His eyes bore into hers- they were guarded, almost suspicious.

_No games_. Not now, when she was too overwhelmed with confusion to fight back.

"Those are my flowers," he stated. She looked down at the tiny buds of the plant she likened to a flytrap.

_She was sitting at her lab table, watching everyone from behind her book. The seat beside her remained empty._

_He entered the classroom. Her eyes flashed down to her book. She waited._

_"May I join you?"_

_He'd never asked anyone else before. She looked up at him, smiling and nodding. Something about him made her tense. Her body screamed for her to get up and walk away. She refused._

"You seem distracted," he muttered. She shrugged. Of course she was distracted- this was her place of solace and he was an invader.

"I come here to think," she whispered.

She wanted him to leave. Her strange fascination with him was becoming too much to bear. How was she supposed to work out this situation in her mind with him so close?

Staring at the flowers, she thought of how flustered she'd been only a few hours ago. Their unique conversation at the cafe had thoroughly confused her. What did he expect of her?

"I have to go." With one swift movement, she stood and snatched up her bag, turning to run from the greenhouse.

"Wait." His hand caught the top of her arm, stopping her. "Perhaps I can help with whatever is troubling you?"

Annoyed, she pulled her arm from his grasp and rounded on him.

"You're what's troubling me!" Her words echoed around them. She hadn't realized she'd shouted. "I can't figure you out! Why do we continue playing these asinine games?"

Shock registered clearly on his perfect face. Part of her hated him at that moment.

Even when he appeared surprised, the look in his eyes was almost mocking, as if he knew far more than he ever let on. Her stomach was doing flips at the expression.

_Each day was the same. Her teasing hellos and his equally teasing nods in return._

They were on opposite ends of a battlefield yet again.

She stared at him, watching his eyes as he considered her outburst.

"I apologize."

She expected herself to crumble at his words, to run to him and apologize as well.

Anger flashed through her instead. She turned her face away from him. Her hand balled into a fist at her side.

_They met for chess everyday. Coffee and conversation always followed._

_He was a tease. His clever puns and innuendos were always full of both insults and compliments._

_She'd always responded in kind, stepping up to his challenge._

"I didn't ask for an apology," she snapped. She turned to look at him once more.

His face was carefully blank.

"No," he stated, his tone measured and calm.

_What am I doing here?_

"I won't play this game." Her rage had simmered down, but her tone held a certain amount of force that could not be ignored.

That same flash of shock changed his expression for a brief moment.

"I never asked you to." His expression was unreadable.

Bewilderment altered her features. From that very first game of chess, he'd been tormenting her. The little comments and remarks about her strategy and intent pushed her to respond.

"I never back away from a challenge," she retaliated.

This confrontation began weeks ago. His direct insult had been to allow her to win. It was only after the battle was over that she realized he'd pulled his punches.

She'd responded in kind, sacrificing each of her men to his conquering king at the second battle.

_The chess board was spread out between them. She studied the pieces remaining._

_She'd lost this match._

_"I underestimated you," she admitted with a small smirk._

That statement had been layered, and she'd known he would see through it. It wasn't quite a bold-faced lie, but one she chose for the purpose of adding insult to injury.

"What do you call this?" His voice and face were passive.

Ire boiled through her veins. This was another game- one of wills. He was pushing her to break- to forget the situation and continue on as if it had never taken place.

Bowing out was no longer an option.

"Asking for a straight answer for once," she muttered.

He did not answer. He lowered his head, eyes cast to the floor.

"Allow me to put it more simply," she began, aware of the bitterness in her tone. "If my only purpose is your entertainment, I'd appreciate knowing. Do not play me for a fool, Shuichi."

His head snapped up, eyes blazing with fury.

"Do you truely think so little of me?" he demanded. She shook her head and his features relaxed once more. "Yet you have no problem believing I think so little of you?"

That particular observation had never crossed her mind. She'd never believed him to regard her as anything less than what she was.

Distraction was quickly becoming her mortal enemy.

"Answer my question!" She'd shouted again...

His eyes cut into hers. The tension was suffocating her. He was still while she was shaking. They were always on opposite sides.

The strain between them increased when he stepped forward. She was certain that this was the closest he'd ever come to her face to face.

Shuichi looked older in that moment, far older than any college student. His eyes were no longer the bright emerald she'd become accustomed to. At this moment, they were dark, shaded behind the thoughts that those orbs were reflecting.

"I have met few people that challenge me," he began, guarded and gradual. "However, your ability to navigate the mind's inherent twists with grace astounds me*."

Finding it difficult to stand still, she crossed her arms over her chest. Eyes narrowed against him, she waited for him to continue.

Compliments could never be taken at face value- not with Shuichi.

"Our games…" he faltered. She might have been amused by his struggle for words if she wasn't so desperate to know what he was trying to say. "Our games leave much to be desired. I wish to know _all_ of you."

_What?_

Mind reeling, she studied the dark intentions and solid truths in his eyes. His mouth was set in a hard line. His struggle was ongoing as he warred with himself over the words he'd just spoken.

Unable to conceal her surprise, her eyes widened and her lips parted. All of her breath left her in one exhalation. The room was spinning around her as her thoughts raged in the depths of her mind.

_What does he mean?_

Gasping, she felt her body craving oxygen like an addict. Her breathing was shallow and rapid- unable to fully satisfy her need for air. Chest burning under the strain, she fought for deeper breaths.

Those shadowed eyes were boring into hers.

_How do I respond?_

Words were failing her. She didn't know what her own thoughts were- they would not settle into clearly formed ideas.

She nodded.

It was the only thing she could do.

Shuichi's statement had been accurate- their games weren't enough to satisfy either one of them. Dodging questions and dancing around facts had led them to this spot.

Taking a deep breath, she willed her muscles to relax. She focused on her fists first, straightening her fingers one by one. Her shoulders were next, rolling them back and letting them fall.

Understanding washed over her like a bucket of ice cold water. The emotions that were reflected in his eyes provided the answers she so desperately sought.

This game was over- the battle ended.

Her stance relaxed and a loose smile took its place on her lips. She was amused by the darkening look in his eyes that served as his response to her sudden change in demeanor.

"What is your proposal?" she asked. That light in his eyes flickered as he analyzed her words.

Now they were on an equal playing field- no more pawns left to take the devastating blows that diminished their power.

If his statement has served as his surrender, then her question in return acted as her own.

The darkness in his eyes faded as a smirk replaced the hard line his mouth had settled into.

"I do believe I've already invited you for dinner." He was teasing again.

Her bitterness had been obliterated. They'd reverted seamlessly back to their word games, but this was no war.

Shuichi's statement felt wrong. She considered the words carefully before speaking.

"For?" she shot back, catching the hint in his tone.

He did not respond, but desire shadowed his eyes in a new way.

There was no mistake. His intentions brightened his emerald eyes, the smirk becoming almost sinister.

Her spine tingled and her stomach dropped. She was grateful for her gray sweater as chill bumps rose over her arms.

Part of her mind warned her against him, screaming for caution. She ignored it.

Tightening her grip on her bag, she turned away from him once more.

"9 o'clock?" she asked. He nodded once. "I'll be ready." With that, she headed for the exit, her mind reeling with new possibilities.

Perhaps a stalemate _wasn't_ a terrible way to end a war.

* * *

A/N:

First of all: thank you to those who've been reading this!

Second: This all started with that fun little one-shot (part one). Then it sort of… grew legs and ran away, becoming its own creature of existence. That being said- there _might_ be a few more chapters.

(**Might** being the key word there!)

A few shout outs:

GoodEnoughTheOpenDoor says there is 154% sexual tension in the line "I want to know _all_ of you."

I loved that- had to share it. :p

The line before the asterisk (*) is a creation of Miss dragonfly-rising, and I thank her very much for her help!

And, here's a shout out to Just 2 Dream of You! Just because she's her awesome self!

This chapter put me through hell and back to write, so I hope everyone enjoys it!

I am shamelessly begging for reviews!

Thanks again to those who've read and reviewed and favorited/followed- it means EVERYTHING to me!


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